Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Jameera Clayton
“Watchu doing, beautiful?”
My eyes flickered from the fabric swatches to Q’s handsome face.
His voice startled me, cutting through Erykah Badu’s smooth, low soprano voice that had been the only noise in the room all morning.
The last time I checked, Q was still in Miami, and I was so locked in that I didn’t hear the alarm announce that the front door was opened.
He stayed in Miami for a few additional days because they decided to shoot a music video at the last minute.
Amill and I couldn’t extend our stay in Miami because we had already agreed to do my father a favor and gather his artist’s looks for an upcoming press tour.
“Hey handsome. I’m trying to decide on a blue that fits with the other colors I chose for our spring line,” I replied, pulling my cucumber lemon water across the desk and unscrewing the stainless steel top to guzzle a good amount.
My mouth was dry, and my stomach rumbled because I hadn’t eaten or drunk much all day.
I glanced at the time in the top corner of the iMac screen.
It was already one o’clock, and I hadn’t finished my first eight ounces for the day.
Q eased further into the office, and my eyes dropped back down to my iMac screen once he reached the front of my desk, that was facing the door.
The enlarged sketches of the athleisure sets Amill sent over before we left for Miami stretched across my screen.
Amill finalized a few slight changes to the design of our upcoming spring collection, and I was tasked with choosing the perfect colors.
Last spring, our line featured soft pastel colors, but this year we were going for a coastal spring aesthetic to blend the colors of the shoreline in springtime.
We came up with that idea while sitting on the terrace of my penthouse overlooking the private marina.
I’d finalized daffodil yellow, coral, and sand beige.
I was just stuck on the blue that would truly encompass the vibe we were going for.
Hundreds of blue fabric swatches sprawled across the desk, and the final three that I was deciding on were leaned up against the keyboard.
After being ignored, Q rounded my desk and gently lifted me from my seat, positioning me on his lap. His signature scent wrapped around me. The fruit and sea salt meshed perfectly in his Creed Millésime Impérial, instantly relaxing my nervous system.
“I thought you were coming home tomorrow?” I questioned, relaxing into his embrace.
“I was supposed to, but my manager set up a few meetings that I have to attend in an hour. I missed you, so I stopped here to see you real quick before I take off again. It seems like we are spending less and less time together, our careers pulling us in opposite directions all of the time. I be missing my lady. Plus, I called your phone twice,” he grumbled, placing the device on the desk in front of me.
His strong hands gently massaged my lower back, and I emitted a loud exhale as I felt the tension leave my body.
“My phone must still be on DND,” I suggested, closing my eyes to revel in the moment. The massage felt incredible, so I wasn’t going to complain about his drive-by trip. Q’s large hands rolled over my waist beads and kneaded into my skin in just the right spots.
“Ya phone is on DND and all the way across the house,” he complained. I didn’t need eyes in the back of my head to know that he was shaking his peanut head in disapproval. “Have you eaten today? Or you’ve been too busy staring at colors, making yaself cross-eyed?”
“I’m going to get up and eat in a minute,” I detailed. Eyes still closed, I took smooth and elongated breaths, relaxing deeper in Q’s lap while his hands continued working my lower back.
“You ain’t ate, but I bet you went on the terrace and rotated them plants,” he called me out, breaking my breathing as I emitted a low chuckle.
“You know I did. My babies already had it rough last weekend when we had those abnormally low temperatures,” I snickered, then quickly changed the subject so skipping breakfast didn’t become a big thing. “What do you think about these shades of blue?”
“If I had to choose, I’d pick this one,” Q affirmed, removing one hand from my lower back.
He picked up the same pretty blue fabric swatch that had been winning me over and read the name.
“Robin egg blue fits the coastal theme you were telling me about. Looks just like the marina,” he announced, before dropping it onto the desk.
“Where is Amill? In Atlanta with Travis?”
Travis was Amill’s boyfriend, and I was up in the air about him for a couple of reasons.
First, he was a streamer. Amill met him at a party the last time she went to LA without me, and the more time went on, the more I was kicking my own ass for not being there to point her in a different direction.
Amill could have any nigga on this planet, yet she decided on the one that made a living bumping his gums on the internet all damn day.
Initially, Travis’ occupation wasn’t my business, but it was slowly starting to annoy me.
Amill was always at Travis’ house, her pretty face popping in and out of his livestream, and those were the only clips of his that really had motion.
Now he always wanted Amill around and acted like it was an issue any time she came home to work.
Amill almost didn’t make Q’s birthday party because she was busy arguing with Travis and almost missed her flight.
In my opinion, Travis’ clinginess came out of nowhere, and it didn’t seem genuine.
“She actually isn’t. For some reason, Amill’s location had her pinging out of Miami this morning.
If she were home, I would’ve gone down there.
” I rolled my eyes because I still wasn’t sold on the blue and would’ve preferred Amill’s input.
Q’s opinion just didn’t hit like Amill’s, but she hadn’t answered her phone when I called a half hour ago or replied to my texts all day.
“I miss the days when we would do everything in person. Now she’s booked and busy, rarely ever home,” I complained, missing my best friend.
Q laughed, playfully bouncing me in his lap after he ended the massage. “Oh, now you see how I feel. I remember when we first got together, we wanted to live in each other’s skin,” he nudged, leaning back in the chair. “I practically followed you across the state in high school.”
“You didn’t follow me across the state,” I refuted. “Your mother moved up here during her divorce, and you were coming regardless.”
“Either way, I was happy about it. We used to be together around the clock. Now you barely come to the studio.” He expressed, nibbling on the bottom of my earlobe. “You only popped out for one show during my last tour. Said fuck me because y’all were booked and busy.”
“We were in high demand,” I giggled.
He fell back in the chair, and I turned my upper body around to face him.
His hands fell on his chest like he was heartbroken while he peered up at the ceiling.
Ignoring his antics, I spun back around to mull over the fabric swatches again.
Q’s full beard prickled the skin on my shoulder when he sat back up to hug me from behind.
The sensation sent a tingle down my spine that shot to my clit when I felt his lips against my bare skin.
Q’s cold hands slid up my crop top as he sucked on my neck.
“Stop, I have to send the final details to our manufacturer by the end of the day if we are going to keep our spring release date.” I quickly pulled away from Q’s grasp and spun around to face him, my butt leaning against the desk.
“Fine, I’m not gon’ try to fuck you. Can you at least take a break to eat?
” Q bit into his bottom lip. “You been up since six and you haven’t eaten.
It’s already one o’clock, and you love waiting until ya ass shaking and about to pass out before you take a break to eat,” he griped, standing from the chair and placing both hands on the outside of me.
God wasn’t playing fair when he crafted Q.
Since we were young, he was fine as hell.
As we got older, he grew into the type of handsome that belonged in magazines.
His dark skin was smooth and blemish-free, and when his cheeks lifted into a smile, I could just melt into a puddle.
Q was 6’ 2”, nearly a foot taller than my 5’ 4” frame, and that was evident when his slender frame stood from the chair and towered over me.
His eyes never left mine as he pecked my lips and scooped me off my feet.
Giggling, I wrapped my legs around Q’s waist and my arms around his neck while I peppered his face with kisses.
Q placed me on the kitchen island next to a black Yeti insulated bag.
He pulled my phone out of his pocket, and I noticed the slight tremor in his hand.
Placing my hand on top of his, I took the phone from his grasp and lifted his hand to kiss it.
That was just my thing if it happened and we were in private.
The brief moment passed, and I slipped my phone into my pocket.
Movement in the living room garnered my attention, and I had to do a double-take when I saw Xain’s marred face sitting on our living room sofa.
When Mama Marissa told us that Vincent was leaving Q’s afterparty to go pick up Xain because he got into a car accident, I never thought the complete story would be that he got into a car accident because Khaleesi put stunned iguanas in his truck that woke up and whooped his ass.
Although I felt bad for Xain, I had to stifle my smirk because those iguanas put something on his ass in the worst way.
Now that the wounds were scabbing, it actually looked worse than the day it happened.
Plus, he was rocking a clear rigid shield over his left eye.
I had to fight my urge to blurt out damnnnnnn. Every scar on his face looked painful.